The Lyrics and Melodies Collection
by LadyHeatherlly
Summary: A variety of drabbles inspired by the songs provided in the second series of our weekly challenges over at The Heart of Camelot.
1. Here Comes the Sun

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Here Comes the Sun" by The Beatles  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Lancelot, Merlin  
**Rating/Warnings:** K  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** Set immediately after episode 3x13.

* * *

The fresh morning breeze was strangely at odds with the atmosphere in Camelot. It was less than a week after Morgana and her immortal army had been defeated, and the cruel reminders of the destruction they had wrought were everywhere.

Everyone was working day and night to restore the city to its former glory, but the acrid smell of smoke was still heavy in the air. Countless faces, though relieved, would carry traces of fear and sorrow for months to come. And even with the workmen's tireless efforts, it would be quite some time before the citadel itself was fully repaired.

Lancelot sighed as he surveyed the damaged city, frustrated that there was little he could do to assist with its restoration. The wound he'd taken in battle would take weeks to heal, Gaius had sternly informed him, and he must avoid any strenuous activity until he'd made a full recovery.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as Merlin rushed past with a strained, weary expression on his face. Lancelot hadn't had a chance to speak with him since their victory, not with Arthur keeping him busy from dawn until midnight each day.

"Wait!" he called abruptly.

Merlin protested at first, but after some quiet persuasion, he reluctantly followed Lancelot beyond the city gates.

They crested a rise, then turned to gaze appreciatively down at Camelot as it was bathed in gentle, golden hues of morning sunlight. From above, there was no trace of the damage within, only a vision of hope, promise, and beauty. Just like the people who cherished it so dearly, the city had suffered, yet had survived with its spirit intact.

Both men smiled, forgetting all about their worries as they remembered just how lucky they were to be alive.


	2. Don't Fear the Reaper

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Lancelot  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** Set near the end of episode 4x02.

* * *

Courage had always been Lancelot's greatest strength, and it remained steadfast as he took one step, and then another, toward the gaping black chasm that yawned before him. The temperature dropped as he drew nearer, chilling him to his very bones, but he never faltered.

_Soon, I won't feel the icy cold stinging my cheeks anymore,_ he reminded himself firmly.

_Or the warm sunlight upon my face._

_Just a few more steps,_ he told himself resolutely. _And then, those awful, tortured screams will no longer pierce my ears._

_And I'll forget the sweet sound of gentle laughter._

Fiercely, Lancelot's mind struggled to maintain the resolve he needed in order to pass through the veil. _No more pain and heartbreak,_ he silently swore. _No more disappointment and loss, no more fear and uncertainty._

_But I'll be leaving behind the tenderness of love, and the solace of true friendship. I'll lose the joy of holding a sword in my hand, never feel the exhilaration of the wind rushing through my hair as I gallop through a lush, green forest._

_I'll never see Gwen's beautiful face again, or be comforted by Merlin's understanding smile. They'll be lost to me forever, no longer even a part of my memories._

And yet, the hardest parts about leaving were precisely what made Lancelot's sacrifice such an easy choice. For as he glanced back at the world he'd cherished, he remembered that everything he was leaving behind was a gift he was placing in the hands of those he loved, quite literally, more than life itself.

Upon that realization, he stepped forward into the beckoning chasm with his arms spread wide and a serene smile upon his lips, meeting death without so much as a trace of regret.


	3. Wicked Game

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak  
**Category:** Het (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Agravaine/Morgana  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** A little treat for a secret shipper.

* * *

He never expected her to be so beautiful.

No, when he'd gone to the Lady Morgana with the intention of making an alliance, he'd only meant to gain a valuable ally. For many long years, he'd lingered in silence, playing the part of a dignified lord of an ancient house as he'd awaited his chance. Time had passed with an agonizing slowness as he'd pasted on a false smile and feigned interest in the banalities he was forced to endure, only giving vent to his true desires within the recesses of his own mind.

Somehow, he'd always known his time would come; the perfect opportunity to strike back in the name of the beloved sister Uther had murdered through his treachery.

And he'd been right.

The bastard daughter Uther had refused to acknowledge had provided that chance. Indeed, she'd opened a clear path for his ambitions when she'd attempted to usurp her father's throne, leaving behind a helpless, broken man in place of the mighty ruler who Agravaine had both hated and feared.

Up until the moment he'd discovered Morgana standing before him with a bewitching smile playing about her lovely red lips, he'd had a solid plan, honed, nurtured, and perfected over the decades, meticulously plotted out to his exacting standards.

But suddenly, any thought of control or dominance, any notion of doing things _his_ way, had flown right out of Agravaine's head. Desire had overpowered his usually cold and calculating mind, stronger than the need for vengeance, more overwhelming than implacable hatred, deeper even than the power he'd desperately craved for what seemed like a lifetime.

"My lady," he murmured reverently, falling to his knees to press a tender kiss against her velvety fingers. "I am your most humble servant."


	4. Dante's Prayer

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Dante's Prayer" by Loreena McKennitt  
**Category:** Het (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Arthur/Gwen, Lancelot/Gwen  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300

* * *

The emptiness of the sumptuous chamber pressed in upon the lone figure who sat propped up against a pile of embroidered pillows on the overly large bed.

Queen Guinevere had eventually become accustomed to the solitude. Arthur spent many nights away on patrol with his knights, of course, but otherwise, it was typical for him to press a gentle kiss to her forehead and retreat to his own chambers instead of sleeping beside her.

The excuses had been numerous at first; he was tired after a difficult day, his body was sore from training, or his presence was expected in the council chamber early the following morning. But deep down, they both knew the truth. Their love, while sweetly affectionate, had never been based on physical passion. And after a while, Arthur stopped making excuses.

Arthur had required a strong queen, someone practical who'd never shy away from telling him what he needed to hear. Gwen had known this when she'd married him, just as she'd understood the childlike need for nurturing... a comforting, maternal love that demanded nothing in return.

She'd resigned herself to the realities of her marriage without complaint, but during the lonely nights when her body ached for a passion Arthur simply couldn't give, her thoughts would inevitably stray to a very different man.

And then she'd dream of raw desire reflected in a pair of soft brown eyes... a heady gaze that recognized her not as a caretaker, adviser, or potential queen, but simply as a woman, with needs and passions of her own. Wistfully, she'd dwell on hungry kisses that begged for _everything_ she was, not only carefully selected parts of herself.

By day, she was Arthur's dutiful queen. But by night, she would forever belong to Lancelot.


	5. With or Without You

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "With or Without You" by U2  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Lancelot/Gwen  
**Rating/Warnings:** T  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** I know my song challenge responses have been pretty Lancelot heavy, but I can't help it. It's all about inspiration, right? :)

* * *

When did I stop telling myself that _this_ would be the last time? I can't recall making that silent promise to myself in anything but distant memory, nor can I remember when I last saw that sad, wistful expression upon her face that swore to me, "This cannot happen again."

We said it aloud the first time we made love, our long denied hunger finally satiated after so many years of empty longing. In that moment, it seemed like one stolen night would be enough to satisfy our needs. It was everything we'd ever wanted from each other, we agreed, because it _had_ to be... because _it could never happen again._

But as time passed, the craving only grew stronger, more desperate and overpowering than it had been before we'd known how sweetly blissful it was to lose ourselves in each other's arms. It consumed me body and soul, not an unsatisfied desire that could be thwarted by guilt, but a driving need I could no longer live without.

Perhaps that was when I stopped lingering in denial, finally realizing the choice was no longer mine to make. One day, I admitted to myself that nothing could keep me from her arms anymore, no sense of honor or duty could compel me to walk away. Only she holds the power to utter the words that would end it, and I can no longer either hope or fear that terrible day will ever come.

No, not when the loving resignation in her eyes tells me what I already know deep in my heart.

We cannot be together. It is wrong, forbidden, promising dire retribution upon both our heads if the truth of our betrayal is ever discovered by the king.

And yet, we cannot exist apart.


	6. Live to Tell

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Live to Tell" by Madonna  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Merlin, Arthur  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** Dedicated to everyone who believes that we've waited too damn long for a reveal. :)

* * *

Being sentenced to death for possessing magic used to be my greatest fear. It was the stuff of nightmares, imagining the cold sweat that drenched my skin when I awoke in the dead of night was the perspiration dripping into my stinging eyes as I waited with my head upon the executioner's block... or maybe my body's last, feeble attempt to combat the blistering heat as the flames crept slowly up the stake at my feet.

How foolish I was, that naïve young man who once thought, "Someday, he'll see me for who I am. I just have to keep guarding my secret until he's ready to accept the truth."

And oh, how I longed for that day, and all the long-awaited acceptance it would bring. How much I looked forward to my shining moment of triumph, after lingering for weeks, months, and then countless years in the shadows.

It makes little sense: now that I know he's finally ready to hear me, why do I remain silent?

Because as long as I keep my secret safe, I can still make myself believe that magic itself the only barrier that lies between us. Somewhere inside, I can hold onto the hope that three simple words will be enough to reveal myself.

Three words: "I have magic."

No... Arthur might be willing to accept my powers now, but he'll never understand the isolation I've endured, how much it has cost me to live in secrecy, nothing of the long years of silent suffering that have marked my soul forever.

For that reason, it doesn't matter whether I'm a humble servant or a powerful sorcerer in his eyes. He'll never see me for who I truly am... or perhaps more accurately, what I have become.


	7. Seven Devils

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Seven Devils" by Florence + The Machine  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Morgana  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** Set at the beginning of episode 4x12.

* * *

As hard and unyielding as the stone walls of the Citadel she meant to possess, Morgana Pendragon waited in the darkness, the light of the torch she held aloft in her white knuckled fist bathing her delicate features in its portentous hues... molten gold for the lives of undeserved privilege that would melt away beneath her fury, deep crimson for the blood that would be spilled in payment for the countless wrongs she'd suffered at their hands.

Vengeance. It hummed through her body with its primal, relentless chant, filling her hungry senses with the sound of chaos, the taste of acrid black smoke upon the air, the sight of terrified faces pleading for mercy... visceral and savage and so very real, long before the first alarm had been sounded, or a single drop of blood had seeped into the ground at her feet.

Camelot was _hers_, a birthright that couldn't be denied... and all who stood in her way would suffer the consequences of the lies they chose to embrace.

No, she couldn't show weakness when they stared at her with eyes full of betrayal. She must remember that Uther had set her upon this path, poisoning the kingdom against her kind with his cruel hatred. Oh yes, she must never forget that Arthur was molded in the former king's image, primed to continue the legacy of tyranny their father had instilled in him since birth.

And Gwen... she mustn't show mercy to the traitorous maidservant who plotted to steal her crown, willing to discard a lifelong bond of friendship in her mad scrabble for power.

She could have loved them always, with an unwavering devotion changeable hearts such as theirs could never fathom.

Instead, they'd chosen disloyalty. And with disloyalty, came death.


	8. Iris

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls  
**Category:** Het (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Lancelot/Gwen  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300

* * *

Lancelot slipped quietly from the palace just after midnight, forsaking the comfort of his bedchamber in favor of a long walk through the abandoned streets of the city.

It was his nightly ritual, when he no longer had to laugh with the others as if nothing were amiss. It was a sweet relief, the hours of solitude he spent in the soothing darkness, not forced to avert his eyes so no one would notice that it was only ever her face he searched for when he entered a room.

Throughout the day, he told himself a hundred times that he must put his feelings aside. She was with Arthur now, and he was the one who had the right to gaze at her longingly whenever she was near. It was Arthur who could dream of holding her, touching her, kissing her, and then do those things as often as he wished.

It was Arthur she loved, Arthur she would both break Lancelot's heart and fulfill his deepest hopes for her by marrying someday. And all of this made his own feelings hopeless at best... and traitorous at worst.

But it did not stop them.

Did she see the truth in his eyes? Was he really so effective at hiding his love, or did she recognize it for what it was, choosing to ignore it as she treated him with the detached friendliness that wounded him to the core?

His heart quickened as he turned down the path to her house, and he cursed himself for it, even as he chastised himself for hoping light would appear from behind the door that had never opened when he'd passed during countless other nights of lonely, aimless wandering.

And then, like a miracle, she was there.


	9. Stairway to Heaven

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Merlin  
**Rating/Warnings:** K  
**Word Count:** 300

* * *

A different destiny wasn't something Merlin considered often; after all, his feet were planted firmly upon the unmistakable path the fates had laid out for him since birth.

Oh, he might rail at the ties that bound him sometimes, wearied by the heavy burden upon his shoulders, or wounded by the lack of appreciation he received from the man who owed his very existence to all the sacrifices Merlin had made on his behalf. He might swear that he was leaving forever, grumbling that Arthur would just have to fend for himself, but those were never anything more than idle threats.

No, an unwavering sense of purpose, combined with loving devotion, would never to allow Merlin to relinquish his destiny.

And yet, sometimes... not very often, but sometimes, he found a few precious moments to lose himself in quiet reflection. When Camelot slept peacefully under a canopy of stars, after the king had given his final order and was tucked safely in bed... when there were no impending threats on the horizon, only then could Merlin allow himself to ponder the possibilities of a different life.

Stifled by the close confines of the palace, he'd slip out into the night, breathing a deep sigh of relief as the cool, clean breeze caressed his face.

It made no difference where Merlin's feet carried him after that. Up to the battlements, perhaps, or through the city gates to a nearby rise, it wasn't important. As long as he could see down the road that led away from Camelot, away from everything he lived and breathed for, that was all that mattered.

Only there, alone in the quiet darkness, would he stare down the path that led into the great unknown and allow himself to wonder...


	10. Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" by Andrew Lloyd Webber  
**Category:** Het (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Lancelot/Gwen  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300

* * *

They hadn't even been able to bring his body back.

That was what hurt the most as Gwen wept before the funeral pyre, nearly falling to her knees under the weight of her grief. She'd never have the chance to look upon his beloved features just one more time, or take comfort in a last, loving touch.

Only his cloak remained, symbolizing an honor he'd deserved perhaps more than any other man who'd ever worn it. That, and the sword that had been raised in the defense of so many innocent lives, including her own.

If his body were there, she imagined clinging to his cold, calloused hand, finding strength in the familiar lines of his gentle face when she spoke the truth that was in her heart.

"I'm sorry," she whispered on a ragged sob.

It was all she could say, unable to voice her true feelings into the empty void he'd left behind. How could she speak of the deep remorse she felt for asking him to look after Arthur... a favor requested simply because she'd trusted him more than all the other knights combined?

She should have never asked... and yet, would her silence have mattered? It had to be either one or the other, and the kingdom relied upon Arthur to become the leader they so desperately needed. Lancelot would have understood that, Gwen realized. He would've made the sacrifice either way.

But if she'd known the truth, at least she wouldn't have been the one to ask it of him.

_Sacrifice_... the word echoed in Gwen's thoughts as she bid a tearful farewell to the memory of Lancelot, the man who'd symbolized everything she'd ever wanted, steeling herself to become the person Arthur needed her to be.


	11. Behind Blue Eyes

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Behind Blue Eyes" by The Who  
**Category:** Gen (Canon AU)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Mordred  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** I wrote this at the beginning of Series 5. This was mostly speculation, because honestly, I had NO IDEA what Mordred in this series was all about yet. He's always been a very conflicted character in legend, however, so I drew most of my inspiration from that.

* * *

Mordred didn't want to love him.

No, he wanted to hate the bright young king with the warm smile and compassionate ways. He wanted to loathe him, for it would be far easier to allow destiny to carry him to its sinister end if he felt no affection for the man legend claimed he was destined to kill.

He tried to find some cause for animosity. Arthur had persecuted his kind... perhaps not as much as his father had, but he too had forced people with magic to live in secrecy and fear. He hadn't lifted the decrees that made sorcery an unforgivable offense, regardless of whether or not the culprit had sought to cause any harm through his actions.

That should be enough... shouldn't it?

And yet, another voice, a stronger one, protested that Arthur had once saved his life. It insisted that Arthur was not his father, but a fair man, a just king, that was struggling to overcome a lifetime of prejudice that had been drilled into him since birth. That voice shouted that it wasn't his fault, and that under the right circumstances, he'd seek to make amends for the injustices of the past.

It hurt far more to love Arthur than to hate him, for if Mordred had been able to find any trace of cruelty, some glaring flaw that could lead to a fall from grace, he might have been able to believe that his own vile actions might earn him some small measure of sympathy in the annals of legend.

But no, Mordred would not be so lucky. History would remember him as a murderer and a traitor, never knowing how much he'd suffered in the process of fulfilling a destiny he was ultimately helpless to prevent.


	12. I Will Follow You into the Dark

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** The Knights of Camelot  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 246

* * *

Every man among the Knights of Camelot understood what it truly was that bound them together

It was a simple, unspoken truth that wove around them far more closely than the causes they championed or the oaths they'd sworn, perhaps even more powerfully than the allegiance they felt for King Arthur, the man who had led them into countless battles without faltering for a single moment.

Arthur as a man, however, soldier and fellow knight, shared in this bond as intimately as the rest of them did. The love that passed between these men, rarely acknowledged through any means other than affectionate jests or quiet support, was a love that ran more deeply than that of kin, cemented more tightly than the unfailing loyalty of brothers.

It was the understanding that someday, they would die together.

Perhaps these endings wouldn't come about at the same time, but whenever a man among them fell, the loss belonged to them all. It was no different than severing a hand or a foot... the Knights of Camelot weren't simply a collection of men who'd sworn fealty to a life of service, but an inseparable force of strength that lived as one, and would die the same way.

Their death would happen slowly, a gradual process that would probably take decades to reach its conclusion, but the Knights of Camelot would never truly fall until the last man among them had drawn his final breath.


	13. My Skin

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "My Skin" by Natalie Merchant  
**Category:** Het (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Agravaine/Morgana  
**Rating/Warnings:** T  
**Word Count:** 300

* * *

It began with the tiniest sob in the dead of night, quickly stifled by an impatient sniff and a muttered curse.

Morgana berated herself for her weakness as she always did, reminding herself that she was a powerful sorceress with a far greater purpose than emotional need. Her life was about vengeance now, not tenderness. She must be cold and unyielding, driven by hatred, never softened by the longing for love and acceptance that had so devastatingly failed her in the past.

She never felt any trace of loneliness when she traveled the kingdom making deadly alliances, keeping an eye on those she sought to destroy, plotting her revenge with the utmost enthusiasm.

It was only when she lay in bed at night, wearied by another futile attempt to strike back at those who'd caused her so much suffering, that the endless solitude made her heart ache, overwhelming her senses with the simple, human need to be touched with kindness, to be looked at with anything other than fear, mistrust, or revulsion.

Morgana sat up abruptly, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes, as a familiar silhouette opened the door and slipped quietly inside.

"What have I told you about knocking, Agravaine?" she demanded testily.

He ignored her. "You've been crying again."

She didn't resist as he took her in his arms, surrendering as she always did to the gentleness of his kiss, the tenderness in his touch as he unlaced her gown and let it fall to the floor at her feet.

"Blow out the candle, Agravaine."

In the darkness, he could be someone else... anyone she needed him to be, as he pushed his way inside and elicited a soft moan of gratitude from her trembling lips.


	14. Lucky

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Lucky" by Bif Naked  
**Category:** Het (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Mordred/Kara  
**Rating/Warnings:** T  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** A little bit of headcanon. I may or may not write a full length story about these two at some point. They're so beautiful together.

* * *

"Come with me."

Mordred desperately longed to speak the words to the girl lying naked in his arms. He wanted to beg her to never leave his side, to be with him always. For wasn't that what it meant to love someone? The young Druid had always thought so, forever dreaming of the girl who'd hold his hand through thick and thin. No more solitary days or lonely nights... two against the world, come what may.

But as he gazed into Kara's eyes, beautifully innocent and so very trusting, he couldn't find it in his heart to condemn her to what lay ahead for him. How could he ask her to leave the little Druid sanctuary and set forth into the unknown... into a bleak, isolated world filled with countless enemies who either wished to exploit his gifts, or to see him burn for the crime of being born with such powerful magic?

More than anything, Mordred wished to see her safe.

"Someday, it won't be like this," he whispered instead, his eyes filling with tears as he pulled her closer and buried his face in her soft curls. "One day, I'll come back for you, and..."

Her lips curved into a smile against his shoulder, as she shifted beneath him and wrapped her legs around his slender waist. "Shhh..." her voice echoed in his head, urging him to put his worries aside for the time being and lose himself in her embrace.

And she was right - whatever the future might bring, Mordred and Kara would always be lucky enough to have shared one perfect afternoon... making love for the first time among the wild roses, a sweet memory forever bathed in the warm, golden sunshine of a bright summer day.


	15. Come Undone

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Come Undone" by Duran Duran  
**Category:** Het (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Lancelot/Gwen  
**Rating/Warnings:** T  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** Forgive me... sometimes I can be very literal. XD

* * *

How many times had Lancelot dreamed of undressing the woman he loved for the first time?

It was the focus of countless fantasies that had sustained him throughout his long years of deprivation, the sweetest promise of "someday" in the beginning, and then a bittersweet reminder of what could never be when reality - a reality _he_ had envisioned for her - had finally come to pass.

Sometimes it was the metal fastenings of a corset he unbuckled with deft fingers. Other daydreams conjured up visions of intricately carved wooden buttons that fell away beneath his seeking hands. Sometimes Lancelot imagined removing her clothing with a practiced slowness that left them both aching with need, while other occasions demanded a haste that made Gwen gasp in surprise as her dress came apart without warning to fall in a puddle at her feet.

And yet, not once had Lancelot ever pictured _this_... Gwen, waiting with just the slightest hint of impatience as he fumbled ineffectually at the simple ties that held her nightgown together, clumsy to the point of idiocy in his eagerness to finally have her after all these years.

This Gwen didn't sigh longingly like the Gwen of his dreams had done. She only pushed his hands away with a resigned sigh.

"Here," she said softly, peeping up at him enticingly through a fringe of long, thick lashes as he shook his head in wordless apology. "Let me help you."

And as she stepped away, watching him intently with her fathomless dark eyes as she bared every inch of her smooth, tawny skin to his hungry gaze, Lancelot surrendered any last traces of embarrassment over his unexpected clumsiness.

Reality... unpredictable, flawed, and so very _real_, was the most perfect fantasy of all.


	16. Don't Give Up

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Don't Give Up" by Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Merlin, Mordred  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** Takes place during Episode 5x05, during one of the rare moments where Merlin wasn't being a dick to Mordred.

* * *

"What would the King say?" Mordred commented, as he watched Merlin carefully arrange stones upon the pile of freshly turned earth. "Sorcerers aren't permitted marked graves."

Merlin turned his head abruptly, but not before Mordred recognized the mingled apprehension and resentment in his eyes. The expression wrenched at his heart, for he knew that particular blend of feelings only too well - the constant fear of living in a world which united in condemnation against those born with magic, the ever present anger of having to witness your own people being subjected to a lifetime of injustice, regardless of whether they used their powers to cause any harm.

That flicker of emotion was evidence of scars that were etched upon the souls of countless unknown men and women who were forced to live in secrecy and shame, a painful understanding shared between people who only wished to be accepted, and to see that same respect given to others who shared their gifts.

Most of all, and it was the harsh reality of pinning all of one's dreams on a promise of a "someday" that might never come.

"It's all right, Merlin," he quickly assured the other man, struggling to keep the edge of bitterness from creeping into his voice. "I'd have done the same. He was one of us, after all."

When Merlin finally responded, it was with a sense of quiet conviction. "It won't always be like this. One day, we'll live in freedom again."

"Do you really believe that?" Mordred questioned, suddenly finding himself in desperate need of reassurance.

"I do."

"Until then," he murmured softly, clinging to the hope that flared anew in his heart at those two simple words. "We go unmarked in death as in life."


	17. Colorblind

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Colorblind" by Counting Crows  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Morgana, Morgause  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300

* * *

"I still can't believe that Merlin..."

"Poisoned you?" Morgause said with an angry sneer, immediately softening her voice as she noticed the younger woman flinch in response to her harsh tone. "He spends his life surrounded by men who glory in persecuting the innocent. Did you honestly expect him to be any different?"

Morgana shook her head with a bewildered frown. "I just can't imagine Merlin harming me unless he had no choice. If I was the source..."

"You weren't," Morgause interrupted firmly. "Do you really think I would've done such a thing without your consent?"

"No," Morgana whispered uncertainly. "But I was the only one who didn't fall victim to the sleeping enchantment."

"I put a protective spell on you. Nothing more. You must believe that I'd never do anything to harm you, Sister. Haven't I proven that time and again already? It wounds me deeply to even say these words, for I know they will cause you pain, but these people you call friends will never accept you for who you truly are. If Merlin cared about you, how could he bring himself to poison you based on mere suspicion? Can the others claim to love you, while they've left you to suffer in fear and isolation for so long?"

Weary and heartbroken, Morgana couldn't muster the strength to speak in defense of the people she'd always believed to be her dearest friends. Instead, she clung to the gentle acceptance shining in Morgause's eyes and in a single breath, cast the last of her lingering doubts away.

She simply couldn't bear to hide the truth of her magic any longer... and Morgause was the only person she'd ever known who'd never demand such a heavy price in exchange for her love.


	18. Rolling in the Deep

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Rolling in the Deep" by Adele  
**Category:** Gen (Canon AU)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Morgana, Merlin  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300  
**Author's Note:** Speculation upon how Morgana might have felt if she'd found out about Merlin's magic early in Series 3.

* * *

There was a time when Morgana could've forgiven Merlin anything - his pawning her off on the Druids in her time of need, his failure to stand up for her on countless occasions... even that nasty incident where he'd poisoned her and nearly allowed her to die for a crime she'd never committed.

She could've let it all go if he'd been the person she'd always believed him to be - a simple servant, humble, powerless, and not always the sharpest sword in the armory. It would've been possible to see him as a victim like herself, beaten down by cruel jabs and negligence, fearful and helpless, certainly not at fault for his ignorance. That Merlin could've counted on her protection, regardless of the errors he'd made in the past.

But _this_ Merlin, the one who possessed powerful magic, was a filthy traitor.

He'd betrayed her in every thought, word, and deed since the moment there'd been the slightest hint she had magic, too. He'd chosen to alienate her, depriving her of desperately needed comfort she'd literally _begged_ for... not through good intentions hampered by ignorance as she'd believed, but with full knowledge of the suffering he was subjecting her to by leaving her to her own devices.

Morgana hated him... more than Athur or even Uther, for he was the one person who should've been on her side without a second thought. Why would Merlin, a _sorcerer_, rise again and again in defense of Arthur, a man who treated him like dirt, who'd strike him dead without hesitation if he ever discovered the truth?

Merlin's rejection burned more than any other, for he'd chosen that dismal reality over herself... one of his own people who'd never treated him with anything other than loving kindness.


	19. Time after Time

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "Time after Time" by Cyndi Lauper  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Gwen, Various Male Characters  
**Rating/Warnings:** K  
**Word Count:** 300

* * *

He'd been her hero as a little girl, chasing away the monsters with a kiss on the forehead and wild tales about talking cows, dancing pigs... whatever nonsense her father knew was certain to turn wails of terror into tears of laughter.

He'd stood as faithful friend through all the triumphs and tragedies of her life, an unceasing source of comfort when all others seemed to fail her. It was Merlin who recognized her greatest strengths - her intelligence, her wisdom and compassion... Merlin who trusted in those qualities before anyone else had learned to do so.

He'd loved her at first glance, recognizing something special in the plain, shy serving girl who was so often overlooked. Despite her broken heart and disappointed dreams, it was Lancelot who'd sacrificed everything... his own happiness, and ultimately his life, in honor of his selfless devotion to her.

He'd been her only remaining family, returning to her side just when she'd needed him most. It had been Elyan who'd taught her the power of forgiveness, and then the meaning of redemption, when he'd turned a past full of selfish folly into a future dedicated to tireless devotion.

He'd defied protocol without a second thought when he'd elevated a humble servant to the ranks of beloved queen. It was Arthur who'd shown her the true meaning of justice and honor... growing into a living, breathing example of all she'd ever hoped he'd become right before her eyes.

Separate, they were simply men... fragile and flawed... men who'd each let her down at least as often as they'd exceeded her expectations. But taken as a whole, these men Gwen loved so dearly were the reason she'd never known how it felt to be without a champion at her side.


	20. I Shall Not Walk Alone

**My contribution to our "Lyrics and Melodies" drabble challenge.**

**Song:** "I Shall Not Walk Alone" by Ben Harper  
**Category:** Gen (Canon)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Arthur  
**Rating/Warnings:** K+  
**Word Count:** 300

* * *

It was if his soul had been emptied: love and laughter, safety and comfort...there was nothing to replace them but a dismal gray void which held the faintest echo of every moment of sadness he'd ever known.

And it was cold, this strange new reality... cold, hollow, lifeless... much like the limp hand he clung to as he knelt beside the funeral bier.

Arthur had never felt more alone, for who could possibly understand the depths of his grief? King Uther had been a man who'd inspired respect born out of fear; even his closest allies had rarely witnessed anything aside from the facade of unyielding strength he'd always chosen to present to friend and foe alike.

But to his son, Uther had been another man entirely. And as Arthur mourned his father's death, he couldn't recall a single bad moment that had ever threatened the deep, loving relationship they'd always shared. Gone was any reminder of the heated words that had passed between them, or even the vaguest memory of the harsh criticisms that had been leveled at him whenever he'd dared to defy the king's will.

No, all Arthur knew was that the most important man in his life was gone forever, and without him, who could he possibly hope to rely upon when he desperately needed a bit of wise advice, a source of strength, someone to bear witness to his most vulnerable moments, yet hold faith in him nonetheless?

That question was answered as soon as he opened the doors that had shielded his grief from the rest of the world. There he waited, silent and steadfast, with eyes full of an unconditional devotion that didn't need to be voiced aloud.

And suddenly, Arthur didn't feel so alone anymore.


End file.
